


Discretional Sins

by BeYoutifulDisaster



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: BMW, Boxing, Cars, Clothes, Crop Top, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flirting, Gym, Headlights, Makeup, Motorcycles, Other, Paperwork, Repair, Teller-Morrow Automotive, damage, pastry, pastry shop, pipe, ride - Freeform, ring, shards, shower, smithereens, sweets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 04:45:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14908583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeYoutifulDisaster/pseuds/BeYoutifulDisaster
Summary: Fresh out of resources and desperate to finally bring down SAMCRO, ATF Agent June Stahl turns to you for help, sending you on an undercover assignment you may both come to later regret.





	Discretional Sins

**Author's Note:**

> -Work title may change

High heels clicked loudly against tile floors, the beast beneath cowering in fear as a dirty blonde haired woman with a navy blue suit and ATF badge waltzed into the gym with poise and authority, manila folder in hand.

She pauses in front of a punching bag that was situated hanging near a wall behind the ring and, with a smirk, grabs a hold of her dark shades and raises them to the top of her head revealing her brown eyes.

“Now, what on earth did that punching bag ever do to you?” she jokes, waiting as I threw that final punch before averting my full attention on her

“June” I sing her name with a short breath “Long time no see, how’s it going?”

“Eh” she shrugs “You know I’ve been looking everywhere for you?”

“Well, seems you finally found me, what brings you by?”

June raises the manila folder and gradually shakes it lazily side to side “A favor”

I scoff at her response, shaking my head “What kind of favor?”

The smirk still plastered on her face grows wide, ear to ear “Going undercover”

My finely trimmed brows draw together, y/e/c orbs peering blankly at the woman standing before me “As what exactly?”

“Oh, you know, just a regular customer going into a supposed legit automotive shop to have her car fixed. While there, you catch the eye of a certain worker and eventually become his love interest, using him as a source for the inside information I need to bring him and his crew down” She illustrates “No biggie, really, piece of cake”

I chuckle sarcastically to myself, her batch of information now only leaving me with more questions than answers “First off, my car is fine, sec-”

June swings her head side to side in denial as she raises her index finger in front of my face, silencing me “Actually, it’s not”

“And why is that exactly?”

“Because there is a high chance that I may have taken the liberty of smashing both your headlights to smithereens with a steel pipe before I waltzed in here”

“You did what?” I question, my voice calm but threatening “Do you have the slightest idea as to how much that BMW even cost me?”

“I don’t know, a thousand something dollars?”

“To say the least” I scoff “What the hell is wrong with you, June?”

“Listen, believe me, you have every right to be upset but this is the only way I could get you to go along with it”

“No, I’m not going along with anything. You’re on your own with this one” I raise my hands and resume to rapidly punch away at the bag, releasing all my current pent up frustration

June brings up her hand, running her fingers through her hair in desperation “Please?”

I pause, cupping my ear “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Please?” June repeats sourly with a roll of the eyes

“Why are you even bothering me with this, June, I’m not even a cop”

“Exactly. These guys have been around enough cops to easily sniff one out. That’s why you’re perfect. I need an outsider for this one”

“I agree to do this for you, what’s in it for me?”

“Whatever you want”

“I have your word on that?”

“Yes”

I stare at her for a moment, reading her body language, studying her features for signs of deception. Not finding any, I reluctantly give her my answer “Fine”

“See, I knew I could count on you!”

“Yeah, yeah” I whine “So who exactly is this group you want me to infiltrate?”

June inhales deeply, exhaling the answer to my question “SAMCRO”

My eyes open wide at the name well known around Charming “Sons of Anarchy, are you insane?”

“No” she replies innocently “You’ll be fine, just trust me”

“Yeah, when will I ever learn not to?”

“Ha ha” June mockingly jeers, continuing on with her information “SAMCRO has a front not too far from here-”

“Teller-Morrow Automotive” I interject “I’m familiar, I pass by there all the time”

“Good, well now you’ll actually be making a stop”

“And talk to who exactly?”

June extends her hand, holding out the manila folder

I take off my gloves and hold them under my arm, pressed against my ribs as I take the folder and open it, witnessing a picture of a middle-aged man attached by a paperclip to a paper I assumed to be his rap sheet.

“Filip ‘Chibs’ Telford” I mumble his name with a whisper, my eyes scanning down the list of crimes he allegedly committed “Why him?”

“Because he’s the closest one to the President and V.P. who is currently single”

“Okay, and if he’s not there?”

“Then leave and go back until he eventually is”

“Alright” I nod “And what kind of information do you want me to try and squeeze out of this Chibs fella exactly?”

“Everything”

“Everything?”

“That’s right” June acknowledges “I’ll be keeping in touch here and there from time to time and, also, don’t be surprised if I drop by or take you in for ‘questioning’” her fingers creating air quotes around the last word “I still have a job to do. And now, so do you, so I suggest you hit those showers and get to it. The sooner we put these assholes behind bars, the better”

“You mean the sooner __I__ -” my hand patting repeatedly against my chest “Put these assholes behind bars, the better, right?”

“Sure” June shoots me a wink before turning her back and beginning to walk away “Whatever you say!” She shouts as she continues to strut towards the exit “Just get it done!”

“Yeah, easy for you to say” I speak lowly to myself as I make my way back to the locker room and hop into the showers, purposely staying in there longer than usual, mentally preparing myself.

One thing for sure is that I know nothing about the club life or even what it consists of to be a woman involved in one. June was tossing a sheep into a pack of wolves because she was desperate and knows better than anyone that desperate times call for desperate measures, even if it means putting your loved ones in the line of fire.

To be honest, I cannot really blame or be upset with her though. I shouldn’t even be surprised. Ever since high school, June has always been the type to lie and slyly manipulate people into doing her dirty work. No, she was no bully or anything close to it, she was just smart and, it turns out, that apparently she still is, which is exactly why I find myself where I am now.

Hopping out of the shower, I dry myself and get dressed in the same attire I wandered into the gym with; a burgundy crop top and mini skirt with burgundy heels on my feet to match. My hair stays down, wet and curly while my face gets a light, minimal touch of eyeshadow, liner, and lipgloss.   

I give myself a once over into the mirror hanging on the wall before eventually grabbing my bag and heading out. My car was still parked on the curb and the headlights certainly smashed to smithereens like June had insinuated, the weapon used to do the deed laid out in full view on the sidewalk.

Scoffing disapprovingly I jump into my vehicle and start the engine. One push of the gas pedal and I find myself doing down the same road I always do, only this time driving into Teller-Morrow Automotive instead of past it.

One spin of the wheel I turn into the lot, instantly recognizing the man from the file - Filip ‘Chibs’ Telford as he was called - middle aged, brown hair and a goatee with streaks of silver, his face, scarred on both sides into a smile. He was seated on top of a picnic table in a pair of back jeans and a gray mechanics uniform ripped at the sleeves, showing off a hint of his undershirt and his tanned, tattooed arms.

Filip hops off the table soon as I step out of the car and gradually ambles towards me “Aye” he speaks with a thick accent I assumed to be either Irish or Scottish “Can I help ye?” his deep-set brown eyes slowly raking over my slim figure as he asked the question

“Yes, you can actually” I reply gingerly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear “In case you haven’t already noticed, my headlights are smashed and I need them replaced. Do you do that?”

“Yah” He replies taking a long puff of his cigarette and swiftly blowing out the smoke as his eyes thoroughly inspect the damage “Wha’ happened to it?”

“Some kids were upset with me because I yelled at them for doing graffiti on the sidewalk in front of my house” I fib with a shake of the head and a roll of the eyes, maintaining my cover “Neighbors witnessed them with baseball bats that same night but waited until the damage was already done to bring it to my attention”

“Wow, m’sorry to hear tha’ lass, damn bastards damagin’ a really nice ride”

“Thank you” I simper “So, how long do you think it will take to get this fixed?”

“Iss gon’ take while” he responds “But before I ge’ started on it, I’m gon’ need ye to fill out a form first about your ride”

“That’s perfectly fine, whatever is needed”

“Alrigh’, follow me love”

I do as instructed and follow him into a small office the size of a closet. He grabs a clipboard and a pen from the table and hands it to me “Help yourself to a seat if ye wish” his glove covered hand motioning to an empty chair facing the table

“No, I’m alright, thank you” I beam “There’s not that many questions here anyhow, be done in a second”

He nods in response, his tall, medium built stature leaning against the file cabinet that rested against the wall, casually continuing to smoke away at his cigarette as he waited.

“I trust I’m leaving my car in good hands right?” I question, signing my name on the dotted line and handing the clipboard back to him to which he takes and surveys my responses  

“Aye, the best” Filip lifts his head, our eyes connecting “Y/n y/l/n” he fluidly enunciates my name

“Alright, well thank you” my eyes landing on his name tag “Chibs” I bat my lashes as I read his name with a seductive voice “You’ll give me a call soon as it’s fixed?”

“Yah, sure will” he confirms “Ye need a ride back home? I can give ye a lift”

“Actually, I have to get back to work but I can call a cab, it’s really no problem”

“You’re righ’ lass, iss not a problem” Filip conveys as he makes his way over to a coat rack. He unbuttons his mechanics shirt and hangs it up switching it for a black leather kutte, the back branded with a large patch of a reaper and the words ‘Sons of Anarchy California MC’ in capital letters marked around the image “Come on, I’m drivin’ ye”

Not having much of a choice or say in the matter I give in and follow Filip back outside to a row of parked Harley Davidson motorcycles.

I smile, Filip immediately taking notice and reciprocating the gesture with a wink as he tosses his cigarette on the concrete and puts it out with a stomp of his boot. He stretches his hand towards me, holding a spare helmet for me to wear “Your gon’ need this”

“Thank you” I muster flirtatiously as I grab the protective headgear and place it on my head in unison with him,clipping the straps securely under my chin

“No problem” Filip’s head gesturing over his shoulder to the empty space on the seat behind him “Hop on, lass”

Doing as instructed, I raise my leg and swing it over to the other side of the bike and sit on the leather, my arms instinctively wrapping tight like an anaconda around Filip’s midsection

Immediately I could smell the heavy scent of the cigarette smoke still lingering on his being mixed in with a hint of an unidentifiable cologne and aroma of his leather. Pure intoxication.

He starts bike, turning the handles, reving the engine that was loud and throttling beneath my frame “Where to?”

“3423 Willow Lane Road”

“The pastry shop?” Filip questions, slightly amused “That’s where you work”

“Well, I own it actually”

“Nice. Migh’ have to buy a wee something while I’m there”

“Tell ya what” I cackle, squeezing tight around his midsection “Get me there in one piece first, and I’ll let you get whatever you want”

Filip tosses his head back, belching out a short lived chuckle “Don’ worry your pretty lil’ head darlin, you’re in good hands”

Now I was the one to chuckle, his positive attitude and sense of humor almost making me forget that this was just supposed to be a job, one I was beginning to second guess, possibly eventually even come to regret.


End file.
